


Inexplicable Allies

by spaceyquill



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Friends, F/M, Sharing a Bed, Trashy Ponchos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:03:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21560074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceyquill/pseuds/spaceyquill
Summary: Three times Ahsoka Tano and Boba Fett run into one another, starting with the time Boba captures her for her Imperial bounty.
Relationships: Boba Fett/Ahsoka Tano
Comments: 22
Kudos: 169
Collections: Star Wars Rare Pairs Exchange 2019





	1. Part I: 6 BBY

**Author's Note:**

  * For [countessofbiscuit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/countessofbiscuit/gifts).

Lights ebbed and crashed together as Ahsoka opened her eyes to a world reluctant to come into focus. What had happened? Everything felt dull. Trying to reach out and sense her surroundings in the Force was like trying to move a numb limb—helpless and unresponsive. That alone jolted her fully awake. The gaudy brightness of Nar Shaddaa starscrapers glittered beyond the sky platform she sat on and everything came back at once—her unsanctioned mission; winding her way through the alleys; something heavy landing on her from above; pain streaking through her body… and then finding herself here. 

She tried to move but found her wrists locked together. Binders of some sort, hidden under the poncho she wore as a disguise. She would’ve verified what type of binders if a hand hadn’t clamped down on her shoulder and kept her where she sat. Ahsoka looked back but all she saw was more of her own poncho hood. The Force still hung limp around her. It had to be the binders. They were specifically made to sever her connection to the Force. 

Which meant someone here knew what she was. On this last-minute mission where she had only made it two full minutes away from her ship before she was jumped, someone knew what she was capable of and was already prepared to counteract that. 

“What’s going on?” she demanded. “Who are you?”

“Just sit there and play nice until our ride gets here,” a voice said through the distortion of a helmet. Ahsoka didn’t need the Force to recognize that voice. She’d heard it in hundreds of tones and emotions, inside and outside of helmets, so long ago. Her breath caught. 

“You’re a clone?” 

The hand yanked her around and was the only thing keeping her from losing her balance as she caught sight of Mandalorian armor. “My name’s Boba Fett, the bounty hunter who’s bringing you in,” he said. “The price on your head has just grown over the years that you’ve avoided capture. And I’m going to collect.”

She was spun back around on the bench to continue waiting under one of the several awnings dotting the speeder platform. Despite the density of the crowd on the public platform, their awning was conspicuously empty aside from themselves, and that possibly had something to do with the rifle that the Mandalorian carried openly in his other hand.

“Just who do you think I am?” Ahsoka asked. 

“Ahsoka Tano, one of the last remaining Jedi on the Empire’s wanted list.” 

“You know, I get that all the time. It’s probably because I’m a Togruta. I’ve actually never met Ahsoka in my life! My name’s Shaak… Koon. And this is all one big misunderstanding.” She’d left her lightsabers back on her ship for precisely this reason, and was glad for that decision now. 

“I don’t think so,” Fett said, lacking any trace of humor in his voice. 

Boba Fett… why did that name spark something on the periphery of recollection? Every time Ahsoka reached for it, though, it turned into Coruscant haze, leaving her with nothing. His voice was unmistakably a clone’s, but with her binders on she couldn’t reach out and feel his signature in the Force to be certain. There had been so many clones serving in the Galactic Army of the Republic when the Empire had taken over, it was entirely possible for one to end up as a bounty hunter. She never did find out the whole story of what happened to up-and-coming clones when the Republic collapsed. 

A small part of Ahsoka smarted that a clone had so little regard for a fellow combatant in the war—even if he had never been 501st—that he’d just hand her over like this.

“Get up, our ride’s here,” he said as his hand moved from holding her shoulder to grasping her arm and yanking her up. “And don’t try anything… Jedi-like; you’re worth half as much dead, which is still enough for me.” 

They crossed the platform, past different queues of people waiting for public transportation, and one especially long line winding toward the floating barge at the opposite end of the platform, the one with a scrolling holographic advertisement to observe that night’s meteor shower from the upper atmosphere. What Fett led her to, however, was a personal speeder hovering in the taxi area, well removed from the public transport zone. Certainly not the type of travel Ahsoka would voluntarily pick on the Fulcrum stipend. Fett pushed her into the back seat and climbed in after her. 

The droid driver swiveled his head all the way around to look at his passengers, waiting for a destination. 

“Spaceport platform 56,” Fett said. The droid’s head spun forward and the speeder took off into the sky, pulling the floating neon advertisements into streaks of color. It was enough ambient light for Ahsoka to expose her wrists from under her poncho to find blocky binders taking up half her forearms. IJ-class stun cuffs, which absolutely dulled a Force user’s connection to the Force. Tarkin had been adamant she wear them to her military tribunal back during the war. Ahsoka cringed at the memory and turned her gaze to the passing buildingscape as if the competing lights could wash out Tarkin’s smirk from her mind. 

The architecture of Nar Shaddaa was derivative of Coruscant, as if it was always trying to emulate the effortless beauty of Coruscant’s upper levels and only succeeding in looking flashy and loud and desperate for attention. They passed a floating advertisement for lower atmosphere tours of the meteor shower. Ahsoka looked back at her captor.

“Wait, we’re not actually taking off anytime soon, are we?”

“Got somewhere you need to be?” 

“Not leaving the moon with a meteor shower incoming. They shut down all space flight in this sector—I barely landed myself before the cutoff.”

“Anything’s possible here with the right connections and enough credits.”

“And who’s gonna fly us out of here, you?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Fett said. 

She couldn’t leave this moon. Her contact had once-in-a-lifetime information about something big the Empire was building, and as Nar Shaddaa was a destination officially prohibited by the Alliance, there was no one coming in to salvage her mission. If she couldn’t meet, the rebellion would never get this intel. 

“Look, I’m sorry for how things turned out because of the war, but you don’t have to do this,” Ahsoka tried again, quieter this time. No need to let the driver listen in with a droid memory that could retain everything it heard. 

Fett’s visor turned toward her, reflecting all the passing lights. Ahsoka didn’t need the Force to know the hidden stare underneath felt far from friendly.

“I don’t need your pity. I need your reward money.”

The speeder slowed as it approached a platform halfway up the docking starscraper. It was the building where most ships arriving to this part of Nar Shaddaa parked—except for Ahsoka, who hadn’t wanted her entry monitored. They landed amid the bright lights of the platform, and Fett tossed a credit chip into the collection tray as he pushed Ahsoka out of the cab.

Ahsoka’s mind spun, though with the binders on it felt like running through knee-deep mud. She couldn’t get the binders off herself. She couldn’t ask anyone for help, because here in Hutt Space she would just look like a runaway slave or prisoner and anyone she encountered would be too happy to “return” her to Grakkus the Hutt. But she couldn’t leave Nar Shaddaa behind without the information her contact promised her. Fett grabbed her arm again.

“I’m here for an important reason. How about we take a little detour and do my thing, then we can go do your thing?” Ahsoka asked. 

“You mean you want my help stealing Grakkus’ Jedi relics? I wouldn’t be too welcome here anymore,” Fett said as he once more took her arm and pulled her along. 

“Wait, what?” 

The crowd on this platform wasn’t nearly as thick as in the lower district, but still they gave a Mandalorian a wide berth, whispers following their wake. Holorecorders taking brave snapshots of a bounty hunter at work.

“That’s why you showed up, isn’t it? Grakkus has the largest Jedi collection now that the Jedi are gone. You wanted to swipe some.” 

They walked through the large archway that designated the change from outside to inside, even though the inside was just as spacious as the speeder platform and the view of Nar Shaddaa just as apparent. 

“Actually, I didn’t,” Ahsoka said as Fett navigated her into a side corridor leading to the individual docking bay turbolifts. They were all alone here; no one, not even those who had meandered off the platform after them, dared follow them now. 

“I’m not a Jedi, by the way,” Ahsoka mumbled as the closing doors of the turbolift turned her sentiment into an echo.

“I’d venture to say that doesn’t matter to the Empire.”

“It matters to me.” 

“I’ll make sure to tell them.” 

The turbolift opened up to a docking bay dwarfing a small ship, nondescript and unmodified. Fett ushered her forward.

“This gig not paying too well?” Ahsoka asked. 

“My real ship is on Nal Hutta. I flew here in this to avoid undue attention.” Their footsteps made a sharp staccato as they crossed the cavernous bay, threatening to drown out their voices. 

“Am I really that valuable?” 

“You’re one of the most profitable Jedi left on the list.”

“Feel free to split those credits with me.” 

“That’s not how this works.”

“Haven’t I been pretty cooperative this far? We’re basically accomplices in all this.” 

A hiss funneled out of Fett’s helmet which could’ve been a laugh. It also could’ve been a scoff, but it was lost to the expanse of the bay before Ahsoka could tell. 

The cargo hold was the empty space between the inward-facing passenger seats and the rear of the ship where the boarding ramp originated. Fett waited until the ship sealed completely before letting go of Ahsoka, and a second later a ray shield separated her from the rest of the ship. 

She prodded the shield with the side of her binders and got a shock. Neither the shield nor the cuffs were worse for wear. 

Fett walked to the cockpit, half a level higher than the rest of the ship, visible all the way to Ahsoka. The ship hummed to life beneath her feet and the dread finally started to settle in. Her most important mission was botched. She watched through the reds and pinks of the shield as the duracrete bay walls gave way to night sky. Gravity pressed her against the rear door as they shot towards the upper atmosphere. 

This had to be her worst mission for the Alliance in a long, long time. She’d been hunted before by several bounty hunters during her Fulcrum years—none had been this prepared. She also had her lightsabers in those previous altercations, but a growing pit in her stomach told her that even her weapons wouldn’t have mattered much against Fett, since he’d inexplicably snuck up on her with an electroshock net.

The drag of ascension leveled off with the switch to artificial gravity. Something pinged against the hull, causing Ahsoka to jump. Then something else. The floor rattled with each impact, and squinting, Ahsoka could just barely make out shapes sailing in front of the cockpit viewport. The meteor shower. Fett was sailing through it.

“You’re not actually supposed to hit those!” Ahsoka cried, nowhere near loud enough to compete with the  _ thunks _ against the side of the ship. Two successive hits rocked the ship hard enough to toss Ahsoka to the floor… and short circuit the ray shield. It blinked out of existence. Pushing herself to her feet, Ahsoka crossed the rest of the ship in two leaps and climbed into the cockpit behind Fett’s chair. 

“This is why we don’t fly through a meteor shower!” she cried. Maybe it was the rattling ship swaying even Fett, or maybe he really jumped in surprise. 

“Not meteors—company,” he ground out. With the rocks soaring by the viewport that Fett, to Ahsoka’s surprise, deftly avoided, their ship was weaving in and out of cover, and their company took advantage of their limited exposure to attack. 

Another terrible jolt. 

“They got the engine!” Fett said. 

Ahsoka shoved her binders and most of her poncho in front of his helmet. “Take these off! I can help!” 

Fett swiped her out of his vision to fumble with the vast array of controls now flashing in warning. One harder blast hit the rear of the ship and all lights from all systems collectively died.

“And there goes everything else,” he muttered in the sudden, aggressive silence. Ahsoka and Fett lifted off their feet to float in the cramped cockpit. The pings from the meteor shower grew more frequent, yet somehow less urgent now that Ahsoka could no longer feel the floor shaking. A groan hissed from Fett’s helmet as he pulled a device the size of a credit chit from his belt and touched it to her binders. They popped open and floated gracefully aside. 

The next moment for Ahsoka was a shock of awareness and feeling and power—the Force surged back to her with a jolt as stunning as if she’d just jumped into a freezing pool. She felt it in her, in Fett, in the limited air around them, in the meteors sailing by—and also, across the void of space, in the two ships closing in on them.

“Remaining life support might just let us make it to Nal Hutta,” he said. The yellow-green-brown planet took up most of their viewport, as unappealing by look as it was by reputation.

“I need to return to Nar Shaddaa, thank you very much.” 

“We were followed from Nar Shaddaa; we’re safer on Nal Hutta.” 

Ahsoka reached out. She used the meteors around her to push off against in the Force, nudging their ship out of the path of the rocks while twisting the ship around. As the noise from the rocks hitting them grew infrequent, Nal Hutta slid out of the viewport and their pursuers’ two ships slid in.

“Crimson Dawn,” Fett said. Ahsoka had no idea how he could tell at this distance, but trusted him nevertheless. 

“Why are they after you?” She managed to ask through her concentration bent on avoiding meteors. 

His visor slid in her direction. “You know they’re not after me.” 

Closing her eyes, Ahsoka felt the next sizable meteor just squeak by overhead. One hand held out to it, she flicked her wrist, trying to add just the slightest extra spin to the meteor’s path. It edged toward the Crimson Dawn ships, a slow-moving projectile they evaded. The rest of the rocks Ahsoka felt in her periphery she used to give their ship speed. The faster she pushed off against them, the faster forward the ship propelled, and the faster her reactions had to be to not crash into the next space rock. Finally they soared out of the meteor shower and Ahsoka gave a final heave off the last rock. Now all that she could sense in the Force was her, Fett, and the air around them. And they shot toward Nal Hutta. 

The two Crimson Dawn ships broke free of the meteor shower and ever so slowly closed the distance between them. 

“They won’t risk shooting and destroying the ship,” Fett said. “Can’t get any reward for your death if you’re particle dust.” 

“You know what a girl wants to hear.”

“They also won’t follow us to Nal Hutta. They’re fine on Nar Shaddaa because the Hutts have agreed the moon is neutral territory for the clans. But the Crimson Dawn isn’t welcome on Nal Hutta.”

So they were going to try to attach to the injured ship in space. 

As soon as the Crimson Dawn ships sailed within her reach, Ahsoka pushed against them in the Force. The faster the chasing ships got, the faster Ahsoka pushed their ship. Fett and Ahsoka both inched closer to the floor. The viewport lightened around the edges. A haze crept across the window. They were entering Nal Hutta’s atmosphere. Hurtling in, more like it. And they had no power to steer the ship into a safe landing. 

Directing a ship in frictionless space was one thing for Ahsoka, but keeping the massive weight from crashing into the ground below was something else entirely. 

The ship swung around, angling into a nosedive. Both Ahsoka and Fett flew to the very back, against the rear door that Ahsoka was becoming very familiar with. Straining, Fett manually unlocked the door.

“Oh, this is a bad idea,” Ahsoka said. She could sense the collective Force-living things, mostly swamp and jungle, and how quickly their ship was shooting down to meet them all. The next moments seemed to stretch on in slow motion—Fett forced the door open, air whipped shrieking into the ship, Fett grabbed her around the waist and together they just… tipped out of the door. The ship hurtled on without them and they fell through the hazy yellow air, just the two of them. 

The wind ripped her poncho off and her lekku flailed freely in a way that made her dizzy. She just clung to Fett. They jerked together, which Ahsoka could only assume was Fett’s jetpack engaging because she certainly couldn’t hear anything above the roar of the air around them. She could sense, though, that the ground wasn’t rising up to meet them as fast; their descent was now gradual and angled instead of a vertical plummet. The air calmed to a general roar. Ahsoka chanced exposing her face from where she’d buried it against Fett’s chestplate to find the tops of trees all discernible through the thick yellow atmosphere. 

A minute later, Fett eased them to the ground in the middle of a swamp. The murky water came up to their ankles. 

Ahsoka stepped away from him and watched as Fett inclined his head in the way the clones did when checking their HUDs. Now that the terror had passed, the familiarity of Boba Fett’s name returned in full force to the front of Ahsoka’s mind, nagging to be remembered. 

Fett… was the name of the clone template. A fragment of a memory sparked a gasp. 

“Jiguuna’s closest to us, eight miles that way,” he said with a nod of his helmet in the right direction. “I’d really rather we both walk there without any trouble.” He started off through the swamp, but Ahsoka grabbed his arm and yanked him back.

“You’re the boy! The boy who worked with the bounty hunters!” Ahsoka more clearly remembered Aurra Sing than Boba Fett, who had looked exactly like a clone cadet at the time, and had indeed used that camouflage as part of the ruse. “You took hostages and… and killed them!” 

“I was out to kill one Jedi. I never—it wasn’t my idea to execute anyone to bring the Jedi to me.” Fett pulled free of her grasp and headed in the way of Jiguuna, Ahsoka close behind him. Their feet squished through the swamp.

“You were after Master Windu,” Ahsoka recalled as long-forgotten memories flickered to life. “Why target him and not Master Yoda? He was the head of the Order.” 

“Because I didn’t care about your Order. I only wanted Windu to avenge my dad. But then he didn’t survive the Empire so I have to make due bringing in the rest of you.”

“How is that fair?”

“Well, in your case, you got me arrested and sent to prison on Coruscant. You also cost me thousands of credits fixing my ship, so earning your bounty will be extremely cathartic.” 

“You’re mad at me for facing the consequences of your own decisions?”

“It was a maximum security prison for adults!” Fett snapped, rounding on her. “I was twelve!” His voice echoed oddly off the stagnant water and sparse, gnarled trees. Ahsoka’s mouth gaped. After a moment like that, her staring into her own reflection in his visor, Fett spun on his heel to continue on, but Ahsoka grabbed his arm. She sensed his defensive jolt coming before it happened, and her free hand went up in a pacifying gesture.

“I’m sorry that happened to you, really. You shouldn’t have had to go through that. The war wasn’t kind to many people.” 

“No, the war was profitable, and that’s why it went on for so long. It’s the Jedi that weren’t kind.” 

So many things had been justified because of the war. After all, it was how the Emperor had taken power. Ahsoka wanted to think that because of how hectic things got during the war, that Fett had just slipped through the cracks. But it could’ve been intentional, too, and not knowing which it was left a knot in her stomach. 

“The Jedi let me down, too, y’know,” she said, averting her gaze. Some experiences were too personal for direct eye contact. Even though she hadn’t been able to see his eyes through his tinted visor, just knowing he was looking at her was enough. 

Perhaps Fett picked up on that. “Yeah, how?”

“Someone I thought was a friend framed me for the bombing of the Jedi Temple. The Senate didn’t think the Jedi would give me a fair trial, so the Jedi disowned me and tossed me to a military tribunal that would’ve convicted me if my master hadn’t found the real culprit.” 

Fett’s helmet tipped in a slow nod. “I’d say that’s a little more than letting you down.” 

Ahsoka smiled. In the end, that terrible experience saved her from the fate of every Jedi on the council, so she had a hard time of holding it against them anymore. She looked back up at her own reflection in his visor. 

“Yeah, and I know I have every right to be resentful about it, but that all happened years ago. What’s the use in carrying that with me anymore?”

Fett looked away. Muttering they needed to get to Jiguuna, he turned once more and splashed through the swamp. 

Even without her lightsabers, Ahsoka wasn’t going to let herself be captured a second time, and on some level Fett had to realize that, too. But traveling together to the only nearby city was pragmatic, after all. They walked together in silence, the squishing of their footsteps the only sound keeping them company. Half a mile later, the whine of engines screamed to life in the distance, growing closer. Fett grabbed Ahsoka’s arm and pulled her to the nearest group of trees to stand under their foliage, sparse as it was. They both watched a formation of Hutt Cartel ships soar overhead in the direction of their abandoned transport, the smoke of which was visible, dark against the yellow sky far behind them. 

“I don’t think Crimson Dawn would contact the Hutts to alert them about you. But all the same we better avoid anyone belonging to the cartel,” Fett said. The whine faded with distance and the two of them set out at a faster pace toward Jiguuna. 

“By the way, why’d you assume I came here to rob Grakkus the Hutt?” Ahsoka asked.

“Why not? Everyone knows the Emperor turned the Jedi Temple into his palace. A Jedi cut off from your heritage would have an easier time stealing from Grakkus’ collection than the Emperor’s, to get your hands back on those relics.”

Even though Ahsoka had walked away from the Order, it was still startling to be in a galaxy devoid of Jedi. Sure, she had run into Force sensitive people never belonging to the Order since the fall of the Republic, but she had yet to find any surviving Jedi—or even discover the fate of some Jedi she knew as a Padawan. That institution had felt so solid during her upbringing in the Temple; for it to now be gone, for its relics to now be historic pieces on display rather than practical everyday items… Ahsoka still hadn’t wrapped her mind around that. In over ten years. 

“The past is the past,” Ahsoka said slowly. “It got us to where we are today, but clinging to it won’t get us out of the predicaments it caused. That requires a new direction. A new mindset.”

Fett looked at her. “Fine, but his vibroblade collection’s pretty sick.”

Ahsoka laughed despite herself. 

Through the swamp trees, Ahsoka could just make out the skyline of Jiguuna, its fat towers reminiscent of the palace she once had the displeasure of visiting on Tatooine. A winding, raised path of ground bent to meet them, giving them a road to walk on that wasn’t covered with water. 

“So,” Ahsoka said after another minute of silence, “how many Jedi have you caught for the Empire?” 

“A few,” he said, and Ahsoka felt the tension bleeding into his Force signature. 

“I’m not gonna retaliate on their behalf,” she said. “Just curious. Has it brought you closure?” 

Fett took so long to reply that Ahsoka assumed he was going to ignore her question altogether. “It’s gone a long way to trying.”

She wanted to smack him upside the head for being so obstinate. “And then what? When they’re all captured or killed.”

“Then I move onto the next bounty. It’s a simple job. I like it.” He stopped short and threw out an arm to block her path. They were nearly out of the swamp now; beyond the treeline in front of them was open space all the way to Jiguuna’s perimeter walls. Fett dropped his rangefinder in front of his visor. 

“Guards,” he said.

“Okay?”

“A lot of them. Stationed on the walls, at the gates, roving. I’d say we’re expected.”

Ahsoka was beginning to wish she hadn’t left her lightsabers on her ship. No matter how desperate she was, she wouldn’t use her weapons to kill anyone who wasn’t attacking her, but they would go a long way toward convincing people to get out of her way. Now she had to rely on other means. “I can get us past the wall if we find an entrance that isn’t so heavily guarded.”

Fett popped his rangefinder back up. “Fine. This way.” He left the dirt road and splashed back into the swamp. They circled Jiguuna’s walls, staying under the cover of the scrawny trees. Minutes later they found a side entrance into the city, not leading to any road. Only one human guard stood in the archway. 

“He’ll see you comin’,” said Fett as they checked the walls for any roving security. This stretch at least was empty of excessive Cartel agents. 

“No, he won’t.” Ahsoka scurried up the closest tree and tapped into the Force to make the longest leap she could manage. She hit the wall halfway up and slid down, landing on her feet right next to the unexpecting guard. Waving a hand in front of his face, she said, “We’re not the people you’re looking for. We can go about our business.” Fett followed when she beckoned him out of the swamp, pausing only to wave his own hand in front of the guard’s glassy-eyed stare. 

The buildings of Jiguuna, none reaching above a single story, were built in the same style as the wall, and it appeared the prevailing material they had to work with was swamp mud. Shop owners tending the stalls Ahsoka and Fett passed hardly spared them a glance. Ahsoka was not the only Togruta wandering through town and Fett wasn’t the only person wearing a helmet and full armor; they easily maneuvered their way to the spaceport. It was a squat building as unassuming as the rest of town, nothing like the starscraper on Nar Shaddaa with countless bays and hundreds of docking platforms.

Two steps inside, Fett closed a vice grip around Ahsoka’s arm and pulled her in the direction of one branching corridor. Ahsoka stopped in her tracks. 

“This is where we part ways,” she said. Only a few aliens were coming and going into the spaceport for such a small town; they were more interested in the opposite wing which led to the shuttle traveling to and from Nar Shaddaa. A Togruta and a Mandalorian making a scene did not get in their way. 

“I was afraid you’d say that.” 

Ahsoka’s Force precognition lit up a second before Fett’s free hand withdrew a device from his belt. Ahsoka jabbed her own free arm out, forcing his hand wide. He held an injection tool—probably a drug of some kind. Her free hand came down hard on his elbow of the arm holding her as she used the Force to buckle his knees. She wrenched herself free in the time it took him to regain his balance.

“Without the element of surprise, you’re kind of outmatched,” Ahsoka said, backing out of his reach. Additional movement from the opposite side of the spaceport caught her attention then as figures closed in. People converged from the opposite wing, from the wide spaceport entrance, and from the corridor Fett was leading her toward. Ahsoka and Fett slowly turned to face outward as they were ringed in, and a moment later Ahsoka felt his jetpack against her rear lek. The mercenaries closing in, brandishing at least one weapon, wore mostly black. It accentuated a symbol on all their shoulders, which at first Ahsoka registered as the Open Circle Fleet. 

“Crimson Dawn,” Fett muttered. 

“Not allowed on Nal Hutta, huh?” whispered Ahsoka. 

“I guess they mended relations since last I heard.”

The tallest among the mercenaries, a Rattataki with red facial tattoos instead of the usual black, pointed to Ahsoka. “We want the Jedi.”

“You weren’t here first,” Fett said. Ahsoka looked around at the eight people circling them, humans, Rattataki, and a Rodian. The Rodian had a long tube-like weapon that she mounted on her shoulder. And fired. Ahsoka was already waving one hand as a net shot out. The net banked hard, hurtling into two other mercenaries and dropping them to the ground. The rest of their enemies charged at once. A  _ whoosh _ of sound and heat flared behind Ahsoka; Fett’s flamethrower sent three diving for safety. The Rodian dropped her large weapon and joined the remaining two people charging for Ahsoka. None of them were Force users and had nothing to protect them from Ahsoka flinging them backwards with the Force. They hit the ground on the opposite side of the wide spaceport entrance and rolled down to the street below. 

Fett grabbed her arm and pulled her into another corridor. This wasn’t the one leading to his ship, but its wall served as protection from the three remaining mercenaries firing at them. Fett attempted to return fire, but their lasers kept him pinned in the corridor. He looked to Ahsoka.

“Don’t you have a lightsaber?” 

“That’s a stereotype,” she said. Though if she hadn’t left hers on the ship, she would have absolutely used them by now. 

Fett pulled a can out of a large pouch on his belt and cracked the seal on top. “Don’t breathe this in.” As the faintest wisps of white curled from it, Fett chucked it around the wall in the direction of the mercenaries. One must’ve hit it with a blaster bolt because an explosion shook the wall as white gas permeated the room. Ahsoka clamped a hand over her nose and mouth. Fett grabbed her and ran straight out into it, past their coughing enemies, and down the far corridor into an individual landing bay. 

Ahsoka didn’t dare breathe until the door to the bay closed behind them. It was just them and Fett’s ship in here, a ship Ahsoka remembered from the Clone War. It was more sobering than Fett had been, because that hadn’t changed at all in the years since. 

A hiss came from Fett’s helmet, bleeding any air it had collected. 

“Hey! Warn me!” Ahsoka cried, jumping away. 

“It’s not bad in small doses. Might make you dizzy. But it’s persistent, so it’ll keep anyone from following for awhile.” He resealed his helmet and just stood there, looking at her. She looked right back.

Compared to what he’d started out as, Boba Fett had certainly grown into a competent bounty hunter. He’d taken her by surprise on Nar Shaddaa after all, with a well-tailored arsenal. And with a sadness, Ahsoka wondered if he had a better life after the war than any of the clone soldiers who’d fought with her.

“I’m not going with you,” she said. 

Fett nodded, resigned. Despite all the gadgets of his she had yet to see, she’d already displayed a wider range of her Force prowess to him than she had to the rebellion she worked for—than even to the other Fulcrums. And Fett was smart enough to know when to cut his losses.

“Maybe Pavva the Hutt will toss me a credit for telling her she’s got a Crimson Dawn infestation in her spaceport,” he said. He headed past her in the direction of his ship, but Ahsoka reached out and pulled on his arm. 

“Good luck out there, Boba. I hope one day you’re able to find a meaningful identity outside of revenge.” He didn’t look at her. She released him and he continued to his ship. 

If any Crimson Dawn mercenaries remained, they would assume Ahsoka was on Fett’s ship. She watched it take off. The other end of the spaceport held the public transport shuttles that would take her back to Nar Shaddaa if the meteor shower was finished. And with any luck, Ahsoka would salvage her mission and meet her contact. 


	2. Part II: 4 BBY

This had been… a gamble. Learning about the Inquisitors was imperative, and the Alliance at least agreed with her on that despite not fully grasping the seriousness of the situation. However, the Fulcrums, with all their contacts on the fringes of Imperial hierarchy, lacked the right sources who knew enough. 

So Ahsoka used up precious days calling contacts and reeling in favors to find someone much less mysterious. Boba Fett had made a name for himself in the past few years, and that had partially kept him present in Ahsoka’s mind for so long. Any other reasons for his prominence in her thoughts she did not dwell on. Once Ahsoka learned that Boba had cashed in a high value bounty for the Hutts and was now off spending that money, tracking him down took less time than she expected. 

That was how she landed herself here, on the planet Trosst, with the rain crashing down all around her. Monsoon season on this resort planet made vacationing inadvisable and locating people during these off-months all too easy. Boba’s telltale ship was parked right next to his cabin, and in this weather, standing next to one meant Ahsoka could hardly see the other. 

She’d second guessed herself the entire flight here because this was crazy! The last time she’d seen him he was actively trying to take her to the Empire, now she was approaching him like they were friends, or at least on good terms, expecting him to help her. But Boba was her best option, so now that she was here—actually here next to his ship—she had to be confident… because she had nothing else. They hadn’t seen each other in a couple of years, surely what had passed between them was water under the bridge now.

Ahsoka approached his cabin with her focus stretched wide, feeling for any premonitions in the Force. She was not going to be caught off guard a second time. The cabin porch only offered Ahsoka a slight break from the rain—the angle it thundered down at still managed to slide under the overhang and pelt her legs.

She pounded on the door. She had to be heard over the rain if she was ever going to get out of it. 

The door opened without hesitation, the light from inside exploding out, nearly silhouetting the man in front of her. She could still make out his face, that of a clone staring at her. Perfectly familiar, but not. Ahsoka blinked her mind back on track. Of course she remembered Boba was a clone, but _ knowing _ something and _ seeing _ it right before her eyes was still an irreconcilable disconnect. 

Boba’s expression dropped from neutral into a frown. “You’re not the pizzone delivery guy.”

“If I said I was, could I come in? I’ve got a ration bar on me.” The warmth from inside permeated the porch and Ahsoka tried to slip past Boba, but with one hand on the door he stepped into her way.

“Now’s really not a good time.”

“Ask for extra dipping sauce! They never give enough!” a harsh, hissing voice shouted from inside. 

“Company?” Ahsoka asked, surprised and suspicious all at once.

“Another bounty hunter. Who knows your price tag.”

“Oh, good! Maybe he can help, too.” With a cooperative shove from the Force, Ahsoka pushed her way inside, dripping all the way. Boba’s scowl followed her, but he closed the door without an argument. 

“I need help with—” It was Boba’s turn to shove, and with the free hand not holding a drink he herded her through the nearest doorway draped with beads. On the other side of the rippling sounds so much like the rain outside, Ahsoka and Boba stood in a plush bedroom rather lavish for a cabin but just right for a resort planet. Ahsoka continued to drip.

“Take that trashy poncho off. Do you collect them?” 

She pulled it up and over her head, shedding water even more aggressively. Ahsoka noticed his eyes went straight to the lightsabers on her belt and stayed there as he directed her to leave the poncho in the adjacent bathroom. 

“Did the food come or what?!” shouted the hissing voice.

“No, it’s the hooker I ordered!” Boba shouted back. Ahsoka could just feel the chevrons of her lekku deepening as she choked on a noise of disgust. Boba’s friend echoed the sentiment. As she returned from the bathroom, she finally noticed all Boba was wearing was underclothes—a thin tank top and baggy, comfortable looking pants. Not a shred of armor on him. Yet even with everything about him that looked so familiar, she couldn’t picture him in clone armor at all. 

Boba ran a hand over his face. “What are you doing here, and how long until you leave?”

“Last time we met, you tried everything to keep me around,” Ahsoka recalled.

“Last time we met, I wasn’t on vacation, and I didn't have a kriffin’ _ Trandoshan _ in the other room who’d gladly collect your payout!” Boba flung a hand toward the doorway.

A jungle moon rose unbidden from her memories, an automatic pang of fear shooting through her until she managed to push that past phantom aside. “I’ll make this quick, then. What do you know about the Inquisitors?”

Boba didn’t even try to hide the fact that he recognized the title, but he took a stallingly long swig of whatever he was holding. Finally he said, “The Red Blades? Must be desperate if you’re asking me. Nobody I know talks about them.”

“Does the Empire have you in their pocket that deep?”

“It’s not a loyalty thing,” Boba said, halfway to a smile. “It’s a survival thing. All I know about the Inquisitors is: they kill people who get a little too inquisitive.”

“You must know something else just being on the inside.”

“I know that people who went snooping ended up dead from lightsaber wounds. So I never went looking.”

“Isn’t that what your armor’s for?” 

Boba raised his drink to her in cheers before drinking more, taking this opportunity to sit on the edge of the bed.

“I haven’t been able to discover much about the Inquisitors beyond the fact that they’re Force users,” Ahsoka said. “Whenever they’re sent somewhere, they generally don’t leave any survivors to tell the tale. If you know anything about their location, their numbers, anything specific, it would at least be a start.”

Boba leaned back on his elbows, studying her. He took a moment to consider, and Ahsoka couldn’t help but notice his tongue moving under his lips, skating his teeth. It was borderline distracting. 

“Aren’t you in league with those rebels? The ones causing trouble?”

“Is that going to be a problem?” Ahsoka asked. 

Boba waved his hand in dismissal. “No, it’s good for my business. The Empire is always hunting someone new at any given moment.”

The meaningful way he looked at her promoted Ahsoka to ask, “I take it they’re still looking for me?”

“Every year you’re not caught just keeps adding credits to your bounty. But I’m not on the job right now. Hence: vacation.” His countenance when talking to her was altogether comfortable. Either he was completely at home here, or his drink had loosened his personality well before Ahsoka even landed. If it made him friendlier, though, so much the better. 

Ahsoka took a bracing breath. “The Grand Inquisitor is dead. I fear the remaining Inquisitors will be after his killer, and I’d like to be somewhat aware of the odds we’re facing.” 

“Who killed him?” Boba asked, sounding like he was trying to feign disinterest and failing. 

The last thing she wanted was to inform him of the presence of even more Jedi. “Assume I did,” Ahsoka said quickly, approaching him, but he waved her away with a meaningful look at her lightsabers. “So the number and whereabouts of the remaining Inquisitors are important to me.”

“Can’t tell you much; I’ve only seen a couple of them at a time. Ran into ‘em on Vader’s ship once, and on a few of my hunts when I was shadowing Jedi. They must be out to get your kind more than I am.”

An electronic chirp shooting from another room startled even Ahsoka’s precognition. One hand automatically fell onto a lightsaber hilt.

“That’s just the outdoor perimeter sensors,” Boba said with an edge to his voice. “Probably our food.” Ahsoka let her hand fall from her weapon and watched Boba’s shoulders relax. Stomping from the other side of the cabin drew closer. The door opened.

“You’re still paying, right?” shouted the Trandoshan. Groaning, Boba pushed himself to his feet and left the bedroom. She barely heard the edges of a conversation, then the door closing. Then footsteps retreating to the opposite side of the cabin.

Ahsoka crossed her arms as she waited. 

It took a few minutes for the realization to set in that Boba would only return once he was done eating, and with a huff Ahsoka sat on the bed. It gave in generously to her weight; the plushness was unbelievable. Not a single bed in Ahsoka’s life had felt this wonderful, from her mat in the Jedi Temple to her bunk on Yavin when she had enough time to check in there in person. Another five minutes later when Boba had still failed to return found Ahsoka under the covers, making the delightful pillow form to her lekku and montrals.

Ahsoka opened her eyes to a hazy brightness. She buried her face in the pillow to hide from the window where sunlight managed to permeate through the light rain, but the realization of where she was kicked in and she gasped into the absolute silence of the room. Lifting her head, Ahsoka found Boba sleeping next to her in bed. She tried to push herself up off her stomach but her right wrist wouldn’t budge and the same electronic chirp from last night shot through the room. Her wrist was chained to one of the headboard slats with a pair of thin cortosis binders. And Boba was now awake and watching her.

“What is this?” Ahsoka demanded, rattling the binders. 

“I came in here after Bossk left and found you asleep.”

“So you put me in binders?”

“And placed motion sensors around the room just in case.”

“You could’ve done the decent thing and slept out on the couch,” Ahsoka scoffed. 

“I’m paying two thousand credits a night for this place. I’m sleeping in the bed. I can’t believe you passed out here with two bounty hunters in the other room.”

“It’s been a long decade for me, leave me alone.” She rattled the binders again. “Are you seriously gonna try to take me in after last time?”

“No, but taking precautions is how I’ve survived this long.” 

Ahsoka stared at Boba, so close that she could feel the body heat radiating off of him. He looked at her with a clarity that had been lacking last night; probably sleeping off whatever he’d drunk. “Do you still need to take precautions, or do you trust me…”

“That’s asking a lot.”

“...to not kill you?” 

Boba studied her a moment before reaching into the nightstand on his side of the bed and extracting a thin device. Touching it to the binders, they popped open and Ahsoka rolled onto her back in freedom. 

“Where are my lightsabers?” 

“Also in the nightstand.” 

Ahsoka held a hand out to him. 

“You’re free. You can get them yourself.” 

She looked at Boba, at how comfortable he was as if this was a usual occurrence. “Why did you hide me from the other hunter?”

“I’m not letting Bossk of all people collect your bounty. Do you know how much you’re worth? Letting him know you were here would practically be gift wrapping that sum for him.”

“Would you be able to actually rent this cabin in the busy season on my payout?”

“Well, yeah, but it doesn’t rain then.”

Ahsoka couldn’t help wondering what their lives would be like if it wasn’t for the Empire. If she didn’t have her Fulcrum responsibilities, would she already be settled down somewhere? What would she even _ do _ as a former Jedi? Looking at Boba, her mind sewed this scene into her thoughts, of them waking up next to each other as if it were a regular occurrence. 

Ahsoka blinked. Maybe it was because his face had so many nostalgic elements that drew her to him—his nose, his mouth. But the guarded look in his eyes was far from familiar. She certainly didn’t know him well enough to assume life with him would work out at all. Still, the way he lay there only half under the covers invited her to speculate. 

Boba looked back at her, too. “Why are you still in my bed?”

“It’s comfy, okay?” she muttered, hunkering down defensively. She looked at him over the puffy blankets that served as her wall. “So… how often do you order hookers?” 

“You’re my first,” he deadpanned. 

A small, electric beep came from Boba’s side of the bed, and before Ahsoka could ask if it was yet another motion sensor, he picked up a datapad. 

“Here you go—new bounty. With an alert that the Red Blades will be after the same target.” He tossed the datapad onto her side of the bed. “Meet one in person.”

Ahsoka picked it up. “Don’t you want to—”

“Vacation.”

Ahsoka’s chest tightened when she read the name on the bounty: Kanan Jarrus. The weight of responsibility settled on her once more and she prodded herself to leave the comfort of a resort bed. Circling the large bed, closing in on his nightstand, she saw him reach for a blaster on the floor. 

“I’m not going to use these on you,” Ahsoka said slowly and evenly, one hand falling heavily on his bare arm. “I don’t strike unprovoked.” 

Boba looked her directly in the eye, searching her. Ahsoka hadn’t dealt with many people not trusting her right off the bat; in her line of work, she usually filled the role of the sole position of authority in any given circumstance. So to be actively distrusted… kind of hurt her feelings.

“Let a man hold his emotional support blaster if he wants to,” Boba said. 

Ahsoka snorted. She moved slowly, opening the nightstand, retrieving her lightsaber hilts, and backing away to the foot of the bed before hooking them onto her belt. 

“I’ll see you around, Boba.” She flashed him a smile, small but genuine. He had only given her scraps of information to go on, but it was more than any other sources had shared about the Inquisitors thus far. And now she knew for certain that the best way to trail the Inquisitors was to return to the rebels. 

Just as she reached the bead-covered doorway, he called after her, “Don’t leave that trashy poncho here!”


	3. Part III: 3 BBY

Her bounty had been removed nearly three weeks ago. No official reasoning why, but what was to be expected from the Empire? In its absence, rumors proliferated. The consensus was that Vader had killed her… but then again he should’ve been the one hunting her down all along since they were so similarly powerful, the speculation went. 

Boba had been disappointed by missing out on a bounty before, that twinge of regret at not acting on it sooner and calculating all the ship upgrades or new tech he wouldn’t be able to buy. But ever since hearing Ahsoka had been killed, Boba felt a different kind of loss. It was more than just material. A future door was now closed in his face, cutting him off from a different realm of possibilities. He had no idea where this foreign speculation originated from, and he didn’t know what to do about it. 

He had tried to push it from his mind, to focus on tasks at hand. That worked for as long as it took him to complete the task. Then one look at the Imperial bounties list, or a passing Togruta, or a particularly trashy poncho, and Ahsoka returned to the foreground of his mind. Ever since meeting Ahsoka during the war, Boba had wanted to capture her for her bounty. To hand her over to a system that would put her through the same _ justice _ that he went through. But after Nar Shaddaa, everything flipped. Something about her fearlessness, the easy way she talked to him, the enviable way she seemed to have dropped all her past grievances, had completely endeared her to him. Not even the Jawa bar fight on Tatooine had caught him so off guard as how effectively Ahsoka had landed in his good opinion. 

And now he would never have the chance to completely hide that fact from her in person.

The appearance of a Devaronian brought Boba’s mind back to the matter at hand. The bounty hunter lay perched on a building ledge several stories up, watching the flow of traffic below, waiting for his target to exit a shop he’d wandered into nearly a half hour earlier. Usually, Boba preferred to wait until his target was alone before pouncing, but he’d been trailing this guy all day and wrapping up this hunt before happy hour at the Drooling Reek Cantina seemed like a better idea. 

Boba leveled his rifle in front of his visor. The crosshairs dipped with his breathing, but held otherwise steady between the Devaronian’s horns. He fired—and the stun dart stopped a half a meter outside of his muzzle, spinning in midair.

“What in the—”

A flash of his helmet’s HUD alerted him of movement behind him. Boba dropped his rifle and rolled onto his side just as a body pounced on him. His fist extended, ready to shoot out the restraining cable from his cuff, but he was met with an orange face flanked by two striped lekku staring out of a poncho hood. 

No… he was seeing things. He had to be. But his HUD matched her face to the one person in the Imperial databank that it couldn’t be.

“The kark you doing alive?!” 

“My friend down there learned he wound up on the Empire’s wanted list, so I’m here to make sure he doesn’t run into any… predicaments.” Ahsoka stood and held her hand out to Boba. He let her help him up.

“That doesn’t answer my question at all. You’re off the list—everyone thinks Vader killed you.”

“I know for a fact that that man has always lied if we came to a stalemate. And he cheats at dejarik; don’t trust anything he says.”

Boba didn’t want to know the context of any of that. He couldn’t get over the thought that Vader had failed at killing someone. But looking at Ahsoka alive and well in yet another poncho… he felt a warmth spread in his chest, followed by the lightness of relief. He felt a door opening once more. 

All at once his purpose for being there rushed back to him and Boba’s attention snapped back to the street. The facial recognition in his visor just barely locked onto his Devaronian as he turned down a side street. Boba shouldered his rifle. “How important is this guy to you?”

“Why?”

“Because he’s worth six thousand credits, and we can split that payout if you wanna be accomplices.”

“I’m not helping you capture him!” Ahsoka cried, her face betraying honest offense. 

“Then it’s all mine,” he said before dropping off the ledge. Flying _ forward _ would’ve worked as poorly as that stun dart, but falling _ down _ would get him much farther away from Ahsoka. He engaged his jetpack at the last possible second, skimming over the heads of the startled and ducking crowd. He cut the boost fifty meters before the side street, giving himself ample time to roll into a sustainable running pace. This street was more of an alley, and the Devaronian wasn’t hard to spot as one of the only people ahead of him. Boba disregarded his rifle and aimed his blaster one-handed. Just as he fired a stunbolt, Ahsoka dropped into his path, white blades slicing through his shot, disintegrating it in midair. 

Boba couldn’t fathom, at this particular point in time, how he ever missed her presence.

“Is this your job now?” he demanded. “Being this man’s personal security for as many years as he’s wanted?”

“Just gonna help him get somewhere he can lie low.”

“Well, hopefully he’s compensating you for all your labor because I’m not the only one after him.”

Ahsoka glanced over her shoulder as the Devaronian turned onto the next road. “Anyone in particular I should be expecting?”

“My buddy Bossk.” Only when Ahsoka’s blades retract with a twirl—and a hum he found a little too unsettling—did he holster his blaster.

“The Trandoshan who was at your cabin?”

“Huh, guess he was. Small galaxy.” 

“Take care of yourself, Boba,” Ahsoka said before flashing him an odd expression and hurrying after the target. Had that been disappointment? Sadness? An altogether ridiculous reaction when Ahsoka got what she wanted—he’d stood down and let her go about her bodyguarding. That was the best possible outcome in her situation. What more could she want? Boba knew exactly what _ he _ wanted: something immediately to take his mind off the fact that he caved because… because why?

He walked back the way he had come. He’d already picked out the fuel filter he needed to buy with the payout money, to replace the aging piece on his ship. Now he had to wait for the _ next _ good bounty to come along for that. 

Ahsoka’s involvement created an odd situation. Boba as well as Bossk had indicated their intent to capture this Devaronian in the Imperial Criminal Database—Boba couldn’t just select another target on the wanted list if this one was left unresolved. Because the Empire was all about rules, tracking everyone’s movements, and penalizing any misbehavers. He would have to formally withdraw his intent to capture, something he had never done before and which sounded painfully bureaucratic.

For a minute, Boba considered nabbing Ahsoka and hauling her in for her old payout even though her status in the Empire was officially “Killed.” The only thought hampering this fantasy was Vader himself, who would no doubt look unkindly on being exposed in any shape or form by a bounty hunter, no matter that hunter’s consistency of work for the Empire.

Boba merged back onto the busy street, where the crowd didn’t react to him with surprise now that he was firmly on the ground, not even with the rifle he carried over one shoulder. A cantina down the street caught his eye, lifting his spirits at the sight of it. He wanted to be mad at Ahsoka for coming back from the dead just to ruin his mission, but at least the next time they ran into each other—which at this rate would probably be next month—she would certainly owe him a favor. 

Just as he reached the cantina door, the crowd turned restless. Shockwaves from a commotion elsewhere were seen in people shouting and pointing and starting to hurry away. A stray blaster bolt sailed high over people’s heads and the crowd swarmed in every direction in a frenzy of escape. 

Boba’s first assumption was that Ahsoka was involved. His second line of thought was that she had run into Bossk. Assumptions stacked on top of one another. Bossk could recognize Ahsoka as someone formerly on the Empire’s Most Wanted list. He could try to take her in and unwittingly earn the ire of Darth Vader. Boba groaned, and took off in the direction of the commotion. 

The street was deserted where Boba found them—two white blades wielded by a trashy poncho, and a Trandoshan indiscriminately shooting at them. Behind Ahsoka, the Devaronian cowered. 

Boba pulled out his blaster and fired a blue stun bolt at Bossk. It hit his flight suit and disintegrated in a ripple. That was new. 

Bossk looked back at him, hissing. “What do you think you’re doing?!”

“You haven’t claimed the bounty yet, buddy,” Boba said with a shrug. “No hard feelings, yeah?”

Ahsoka covered the distance between herself and Bossk in a single leap. Landing next to him, she threw out one hand. “You want to walk away now.”

Boba cringed under his helmet. Bossk, screaming, swung his rifle around like a staff—but before he hit her, he went hurtling against the second story of the nearest building. Bossk landed in a heap that looked in no way slowed by Ahsoka. Boba ran to him, his sensors already scanning for life signs, nearly drowning out the beep from his helmet warning of approaching movement. Ahsoka stopped in his periphery.

“Bossk’s my best mate. I’m not gonna be too happy if you killed him,” Boba said, even after his HUD indicated Bossk was fully alive, just unconscious.

“Trandoshan skulls are thick, he’s fine—but you!” Ahsoka stepped clear over Bossk with the widest smile he’d seen on her face. “I could kiss you!” 

It certainly wasn’t a reaction he expected, not after how she’d left him in the alley. He didn’t feel like ruining the moment by asking if she was serious or not. He didn’t know why that was an important distinction he wanted clarified. “Only if I get to keep my helmet on.” 

To his surprise, Ahsoka took his helmet in both of her hands and pulled him in until their foreheads touched. He didn’t breathe. It had always been a sweet gesture when his father had done it with him, but this felt… 

Boba swallowed as she pulled away. “Where’d you learn that?”

“Around. Oh! I have something for you, but it’s on my ship.”

“That doesn’t sound suspicious at all,” he muttered. 

“No, really!” she protested, the sincerity in her eyes shining through. She beckoned him to follow as she collected the Devaronian and led them both down winding alleys until they reached an abandoned building with a caved-in roof that had been big enough to serve as a landing bay for Ahsoka’s ship. 

“Why are you allergic to spaceports?” Boba asked. The Devaronian ran aboard the ship as soon as the ramp was lowered.

“Have you ever seen Togrutan lekku break out in hives? It’s not pretty.”

Boba tried not to stiffen as Ahsoka boarded her ship, and kept his hands tightly grasping his utility belt as she returned with her hands behind her back—despite all his years of experience wailing like a siren in his head. Maybe she read the tension in him because she stopped a safe distance away and revealed her surprise. A vibrosword. The tip of a steel blade narrowed into a shaft of individual rods all the way to the hilt. When Ahsoka ignited it, the rods sparked with red electricity, dancing around and between one another, giving the appearance of a full red sword. It thrummed with an energy not at all like a lightsaber. 

Ahsoka powered it down and handed it over to Boba. It was certainly old, and parts were rusting, but the craftsmanship still shone through in the intricately carved hilt and the folded steel. It was beautiful. And this was… a gift. For him. 

“Is Grakkus missing a piece of his collection?” Boba asked when his brain finally clunked back into operation. 

Ahsoka laughed. “I found that in an abandoned Sith temple, so it’s probably rarer than anything Grakkus has.” 

Boba reignited it and slashed through the air, listening to it sing. “Does this mean we’re even? Because I think you’re forgetting I helped you out with your Inquisitors.”

“You really did not,” Ahsoka said. “Visiting you was such a waste of time—the rebellion even refused to reimburse me on the fuel I used in transit.” 

“Sucks,” Boba said, his focus on the sword cutting this way and that, watching the narrow red blade glow. “Wanna help me test it out?” 

Ahsoka’s eyes narrowed playfully, just for a moment. But that moment was long enough for Boba to wonder what kind of situation an expression like that implied. She returned to her former composure; he wouldn’t find out. 

“I have to get my guy to safety. Somewhere he won’t be followed by people trying to grab his payout.”

“I’ll mark him disintegrated on his listing,” Boba said, disengaging the vibrosword. 

“You’d do that for me?”

“No, I’m doing it for _ me. _ I want to move on to my next bounty as fast as possible.”

“Well, either way, thank you,” Ahsoka said. She wavered, and Boba wondered for a moment if she was going to touch foreheads again. He hoped she would. But she backed up to the boarding ramp, just as hesitant to go as Boba was to see her go. With extra mental prodding, Boba forced himself to turn and walk away, sword in one hand, rifle in the other. He would check on Bossk, then be back to his simple life of bounty hunting, amusing himself with the increasingly wilder speculations of what would happen the next time Ahsoka’s life intersected with his.


End file.
